


Dessert Before Dinner

by EvaDean



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 14:46:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvaDean/pseuds/EvaDean
Summary: You've had a rough day at work and Chris surprises you with dinner and dessert when you arrive home.





	Dessert Before Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> I planned on this being a story but, when I started writing this part, everything started flowing. I decided to make this a one-shot since it's so great as a stand alone. It's rated 'Mature' for implied sexual content, but it's pretty safe! Let me know what you think. I accept all kinds of criticism and accolades. It's been a long time since I've been inspired to write. Much love!

You exit the elevator onto the floor of your apartment, relieved the long and hellish day at the office was over, when you smell the most delectable aroma. “Mmm, that smells delicious.” You say to yourself as you inch closer to your door. A grin spreads across your face as you realize the scent originates from inside your place. As you enter, you hear your Chris singing along with Journey’s, ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ and your grin widens. You open the door, closing it softly behind you so you can continue to witness the show. You remove your coat placing it, along with your keys, on the accent table. Slowly, you walk towards the kitchen and you can barely contain your laugh as your eyes focus on him. Chris’ back is to you and he is bent over the stove, inspecting what’s in the oven. He’s singing aloud without a care, hips swaying. 

“Don’t stop believin’. Hold on to that feeeeeliiiiin!” He belts out, immediately reminding you of his scene from ‘The Losers’ movie and you let a chuckle slip, ending your secret peep show. Still bent over, he turns around and looks at you. A smirk appears on his beautiful face as he straightens up and closes the oven door. Whimsically, he walks over to you re-enacting the entire scene in which you laugh out loud, shaking your head. You take in his appearance as your laughs morph into desire as you take in his appearance. He is wearing a dark grey Henley over stone-washed, destructed jeans which hang over his perfect hips; the frays dance over his bare feet as he advances. He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Like the show?” Chris asks before kissing you softly on your lips, moving down your chin to your neck where he lingers, taking a long whiff of your coconut lotion. “Mmm, you always smell like we’re on a tropical island. I wonder if you taste like coconut.” He says as he begins to lightly nip at your neck, making sure not to leave any marks.

Your hands snake up his biceps. You manage the strength to formulate words, momentarily lost due to his ministrations. “I love any show you put on. Especially private ones.” 

“Hmm. Duly-noted.” He replies as he pulls back. “Dinner is ready.” He says. “I know this was a long day for you, so I didn’t want you to worry about anything. We’re having lasagna, salad and garlic bread. For a special treat, it’s cannoli for dessert. Recipes courtesy of mamma Evans.” 

He beams proudly and takes your hand, leading you toward the island. You look over at the cannoli’s and happen to notice something missing. 

“Are you going to finish the cannoli’s before we eat?” You ask, curiously. 

“What do you mean?” Chris inspects the cannoli’s, confusion etched on his brows. 

“You forgot the chocolate chips, babe.” 

A mischievous smile appears his lips as he dips a finger into one of the cannoli’s, scooping up some mascarpone cream, ever so slowly spreading it on your lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re the chocolate.” He leans in to your lips, licking the cream off before he kisses you. The kiss is deliberately slow, allowing you to taste and savor the mascarpone cream mixed with his own personal flavor.   
“Mmm.” Chris sighs as he draws back from the connection. “Perfect!” He exclaims as he looks at you, deep in thought. As if a lightbulb went off in his mind, grabs the cannoli in one hand and your hand in the other and walks by the dining table. 

“Change of plans? You inquire, as if you don’t know the answer. “Yep.” He simply states as he leads you to the bedroom. “I’m having dessert first!”


End file.
